


Secret Smiles

by SkieNight



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: 5+1 Things, Akaashi has a lot of self doubt, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Drunken Shenanigans, Fluff, M/M, Mutual Pining, Pining, Slow Burn, Strangers to Friends to Lovers, a complete butchering of basically anything that came from the show The Untamed, alternate universe - the untamed, everyone is smiling all the time, so many smiles
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-09
Updated: 2020-07-09
Packaged: 2021-03-05 01:41:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 16,496
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25166383
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SkieNight/pseuds/SkieNight
Summary: When Koutarou was sent to the Cloud Recesses to be educated in the art of demon-fighting and learn how to be the next clan head, he didn't expect to get swept away by Akaashi Keiji. Of course, that's exactly what happened.orThe five times Koutarou thought he saw Akaashi smiling at him, and the one time Akaashi most certainly smiled at him.
Relationships: Akaashi Keiji & Bokuto Koutarou, Akaashi Keiji/Bokuto Koutarou, Bokuto Koutarou & Kuroo Tetsurou, Kozume Kenma/Kuroo Tetsurou, Minor or Background Relationship(s)
Comments: 10
Kudos: 89





	Secret Smiles

**Author's Note:**

> Hi everyone! I got this idea because one of my good friends and I started watching Untamed together and I fell in love with the setting of the Cloud Recesses. Aside from the setting and some rough facts about the world, basically nothing else is from The Untamed, so you don't need to know the show to understand the world. 
> 
> Anyways, I hope you all are staying safe and healthy! Thank you for picking up this ridiculous little fic, I hope you enjoy :)

**I: First Meeting**

The first time Koutarou saw him, he stood in the middle of the dirt path just past the painted archway that marked the entrance to the Cloud Recesses. Green foliage rose up on either side of him accentuating his fair skin and stark white robes. His black hair fell in messy curls across his forehead, shadowing his eyes. A slight frown sat up thin lips, framed by perfectly sloping cheekbones. The moment his gaze met Koutarou’s, any breath Koutarou had in his body vanished.

He had never seen someone so beautiful.

“How may I assist you?” the stranger asked. Even his voice was beautiful, soft and warm like the summer breeze that fluttered through the forest around them. 

When Koutarou was instructed to attend lectures at the Cloud Recesses, he’d been nervous, and rightfully so. The Cloud Recesses were notoriously rigid, their lessons challenging and instructors strict, and Koutarou had arrived on his own, the only representative from his Clan. His siblings were too young to join him, though they had vehemently protested that fact.

“Do I need to go,” Koutarou had asked, all those weeks ago over dinner.

“You need a good education if you’re going to be the next Head,” his father had said sternly but not meanly. He never sounded mean, his voice was too warm for that. 

“And you’ll get the chance to make some new friends,” his mother had added as she guided Mei, the youngest of his sisters, through refilling their cups with more tea. “You’ll meet people from many different clans. And you never know, those relationships could be important in the future.”

Koutarou had frowned at the time but agreed nonetheless, if only to appease his parents. He knew they were right, and he had a lot to learn if he was ever to take the title of Clan Leader. Standing at the gates now, looking down the path to the brilliant man who stared back, Koutarou’s chest warmed. Maybe his mother had been correct after all. 

The stranger gave him another look over and then turned, starting back up the path. 

“Wait!” Koutarou called after him, rushing forward. “Is this the entrance to the—” He stopped when he reached the edge of the archway. Inches from his throat was a silver blade, so immaculately polished Koutarou could look down and meet his own gaze in the metallic surface. 

When he looked up, the stranger was already watching him, gaze as intense and unreadable as it had been moments before. Hastily, Koutarou stumbled back, hands up, and all at once, the blade was gone. The beautiful stranger was still and serene as before. 

“I’m here for the lectures,” Koutarou said quickly. He went to take a step forward, but the stranger’s hand fell back to the sword at his hip and Koutarou froze again, gaze drifting back to the stranger’s face, stoic as ever, though this time there was something almost questioning in his gaze. Koutarou didn’t know for what, so he just stared

The stranger blew a breath through his nose but relaxed some. “Do you have your invitation?”

Koutarou tilted his head to the side. “Invitation?”

“No invitation, no entry,” the stranger said easily, almost automatically. 

Invitation? Koutarou’s eyes widened. “Yes. Yes! I do!” He began frantically searching the folds of his clothing. 

Right before he left home, his mother had handed him a beautifully folded note. The parchment had been dainty in the palm of his hand, like a butterfly's wing, with neat blue designs along the side. Across the front was writing that was so beautiful it didn’t look handwritten at all. 

“I have it somewhere,” Koutarou mumbled. 

“Don’t lose this,” his mother had said when she passed him the note. “This is your key into the Cloud Recesses. Without it, they won’t let you in. Whatever you lose, Koutarou, do not lose this.” 

Another image crossed his mind of the package he had placed on the table by his bedside the night before when he had just barely found room at the village inn. 

He looked up at the stranger sheepishly. “I think I left it.”

“No invitation, no entry,” the beautiful stranger said again and then looked up, as though glancing at the sky. “The nighttime wards go up when the sun goes down. Find your invitation by then or you will not be granted passage.”

“Nighttime wards?” Koutarou asked. “Does that mean I could run down the village and—”

“You would need to be back before nightfall.” They both knew that wasn’t possible, the village was half a day’s journey back down the mountainside. “Or come back after sunrise tomorrow.”

“But lectures start tomorrow!”

The look the stranger gave him wasn’t anger or even frustration, but something else entirely; Koutarou couldn’t read his face at all. His thoughts were perfectly masked by an almost tired look.

“Please,” Koutarou begged. “I promise, I’m supposed to be here.”

Before the stranger could respond, if he was ever going to respond, another voice called down from the mountain path, “oh, ho, ho, is there a problem?”

Another man appeared behind the beautiful stranger. They weren’t from the same Clan if the new man’s red garb was anything to go by. He held himself differently too. His gate was relaxed and easy, and there was no sword at his hip. This new man ran a hand through his messy hair — which was also impossibly cool and also vaguely familiar, but Koutarou would deal with that later — and looked between Koutarou and the stranger in white. 

“Kuroo-san,” the beautiful stranger greeted the new man with a dip of his head. “It is nothing a guest needs to worry about.”

A guest. Well then, Kuroo would be of no help to Koutarou at the moment, so he turned his attention back to the man draped in white. “If you could hold off the night wards I could—”

“They appear automatically,” the stranger replied with a shake of his head.

“Did you lose your invitation?” the other man, Kuroo, asked.

Koutarou glanced to Kuroo before dropping his head, nodding sadly. “I left it at the inn”

Kuroo let out a long laugh, the kind that almost sounded like a deep cackle. When he paused he looked Koutarou over again and his eyes widened and his smile went from smug to warm. “I recognize you,” Kuroo said suddenly, nodding with growing enthusiasm. “Yeah, you’re Bokuto Koutarou from the Black Jackal Clan, right?” Koutarou nodded, and Kuroo steamrolled ahead. “You’re mother reached out to Nekoma because you’re the only person representing your Clan this year. Here, Akaashi, I have the letter.” 

The beautiful stranger — Akaashi, even his name was pretty — carefully took the note Kuroo had pulled out from his robes and read it over quickly with a small frown. Koutarou’s stomach dropped. It would be perfectly reasonable for Akaashi to deny him entry. After all, he and Kuroo had never met, their Clans only shared a border, which was the only reason they were on reasonably friendly terms. 

“Come on, Akaashi,” Kuroo said as he walked up to the edge of the archway. “Do you really think someone with this face could cause any harm?”

Kuroo gestured to Koutarou with a wild arc of his arm, and in turn, Koutarou turned to Akaashi with his best and largest smile. 

Akaashi looked him over again and swallowed. Koutarou watched the way his throat bobbed and jaw clenched ever so slightly before ripping his gaze away to stare at the path. 

“It’s rather convenient that you have this note,” Akaashi said simply.

Kuroo scoffed. “Convenient? Please, I’m always this organized.” 

When Akaashi didn’t reply, Koutarou looked up to find the figure in white was already starting back up the path. “Is… that a yes?” he yelled after Akaashi. “Can I come in?” 

Akaashi stopped, glancing over his shoulder briefly. “Be sure to get past the archway before the barrier comes up for the night,” was his only reply. As he turned away, Koutarou could have sworn he caught sight of the corner of a smile, but Akaashi was gone before Koutarou could even process what was said or what he saw. 

Blinking, Koutarou stumbled through the archway, half expecting some type of resistance, but none came. He turned to Kuroo, who stood back, watching him with an amused smile. “Thank you,” Koutarou stuttered with a sloppy dip of his head. “I’m sorry I caused you trouble.” 

“No worries,” Kuroo said with a wave of his hand, before extending it fully, “Kuroo Tetsurou from Nekoma, but friends call me Tetsurou.” 

“Bokuto Koutarou from the Black Jackals,” Koutarou replied, gripping Tetsurou’s hand before laughing, “but you already know that.” 

Together, the two of them started up the path Akaashi had vanished down a few moments prior. “Thank you again,” Koutarou said with a warm smile. “I don’t know what I would have done if I had gone back to the village and couldn’t find my invitation.”

“Hey, it’s no problem,” Tetsurou replied. 

“Why did you help me anyway?” 

“Why?” Tetsurou’s smile grew into something sharp and a bit mischievous, with the glint in his eyes he looked almost feline. “I’m always this kind. Besides, Akaashi might be a bit cold but he’s just following the Grand Master’s rules. Still, he’s not exactly the kind of guy you want to cross.”

“Oh?” Koutarou frowned. He’s seemed perfectly lovely. He never sounded cold, even when he was telling Koutarou off there was a reason behind his words, even if his face remained as calm and composed as ever. Besides, anyone who could smile — that had been what Koutarou saw, right? — had to be a good person. No cold wasn’t the word. Stern maybe? Serious? Yes, serious, but not meanly so just… it seemed like it was the only thing he knew how to do. The only option he had. 

Besides, he was too pretty to look mean, but Koutarou kept that opinion to himself and just shook his head. “He didn’t seem that cold or scary. He seemed… nice actually.” 

Tetsurou snorted. “Really? Akaashi Keiji seemed _nice_. We are talking about the same person, right? The one who doesn’t smile and almost didn’t let you in?” 

Koutarou nodded, though he only listened to half of what Tetsurou said. His mind was stuck on that name. _Akaashi Keiji_. Why had Koutarou heard the name before? And then it hit him, and his eyes widened as he turned to Tetsurou. “Akaashi Keiji, as in the next head of Fukurodani?” 

The next head of the Clan Koutarou had come to try and learn from; a Clan so well known that the other Clans from lands all around sent their children to them for education. His face heated up at the thought. So not only was Akaashi beautiful, but he was smart and powerful and cool too, and Koutarou had done nothing but make a fool of himself. Great. He dropped his head into the palms of his hands, and Tetsurou walked beside him and laughed. 

“Don’t worry,” Tetsurou said with a nudge to Koutarou’s shoulders. “He didn’t look mad. Then again, it’s hard to tell with Akaashi. That guy can be a little cryptic sometimes.” 

Koutarou groaned again. Anger wasn’t what he was worried about, but he didn’t know how to say that to Tetsurou so he kept his mouth shut and nodded weakly. 

With another burst of laughter, Tetsurou threw his arm over Koutarou’s shoulder as the path up the mountain cleared to reveal a large, white stone wall, perfectly carved and perfectly smooth. Through the wide entrance and past the wall, Koutarou could see an open courtyard lined with roofed paths that connected the various buildings. 

Koutarou dropped his hands, his jaw going slack as he walked into the complex. Members of the Fukurodani clan moved back and forth, their robes all as white and pristine as Akaashi’s. A few other people wore the same red robes as Kuroo did, members of Nekoma or so Koutarou assumed. 

“Welcome to the Cloud Recesses,” Tetsurou said, walking alongside him, gesturing to the buildings all around him. “ A little haven atop the mountains and amidst the forest. Beautiful, right?”

Koutarou’s eyes were dragged off to the side, as though on instinct. There, walking along on one of the pathways, was Akaashi. He looked up, met Koutarou’s gaze, and held it for a short moment before looking away and walking forward with practiced ease.

Koutarou swallowed and nodded shallowly. “Yes. Very.”

* * *

**II: Lectures**

Lectures at the Cloud Recesses were as challenging and dense as the rumors claimed them to be. Were they rumors if they were telling the truth? Koutarou honestly didn’t have the brainpower to try and sort that one out. Lectures started early in the morning and went until the early afternoon. The only blessing was that they had afternoons and evenings free to roam the compound and the surrounding forests as they pleased, so long as they continued to follow all of the three thousand plus rules that governed everyone, Clan members and students alike. It was abundantly clear that the Fukurodani Clan had one major flaw: they didn’t know how to have fun. Akaashi included. 

The only times Koutarou ever actually saw Akaashi was during lectures. The Cloud Recesses weren’t that large, and yet the moment lecture was over, Akaashi would stand up, bow deeply to their teacher — the Grand Master, Akaashi’s father, and the current head of the Fukurodani Clan — and vanish out the door. On a few occasions, he hung back, standing stone still at his desk until all the other students were gone. Perhaps he had questions, but Koutarou came to suspect it had to do with family matters.

Lectures themselves were dull, at best. The information could be interesting, but most of it was things Koutarou had already heard either from his parents or from just living around Cultivators or hearing their stories. Lectures were made harder by Akaashi. It wasn’t that the heir to the Fukurodani Clan did anything during lectures. In fact, it was his active lack of doing anything in particular that threw Koutarou off. 

Akaashi sat across the aisle and one row in front of Koutarou, in just the perfect spot that even when Koutarou was trying to pay attention and sitting tall and facing forward, Akaashi was always a white spot in the corner of his vision. Akaashi was attentive during lessons, taking notes — he even made calligraphy look easy — nodding along all the while. Sometimes when certain topics came up, types of ghouls or demon clarification systems, his eyes lit up and his normally passive expression almost looked warm. Sometimes Koutarou swore Akaashi was about to smile, but it never came. Other times, he’d lift the end of his calligraphy brush to his lips and then freeze, dropping his arm quickly, lowering his gaze in an almost embarrassed fashion.. 

Koutarou really tried to pay attention during lectures, but they were long and he couldn’t sit perfectly still for hours like some of the other students. He’d change his position constantly, sometimes crossing his legs, other times he’d sit back properly on his heels. Sometimes a mix between the two. When he did force himself to stay still, his fingers would tap on the surface of the low desk, earning him a quick glare from the Grand Master before he was even aware of what he was doing. 

His one saving grace was that Tetsurou sat at the kneeling table beside him. They passed notes to each other and occasionally to Kenma, one of Tetsurou’s clanmates who sat two rows ahead of them. Koutarou had even tried sending a few across the aisle to Akaashi, but he never replied. He never even looked like he noticed the notes, even when they danced on this thigh or settled atop his papers. Passing enchanted notes was always hard under the Grand Master’s ever-watchful eye, but they were getting better with the timing, or perhaps the Grand Master was beginning to care less. 

A careful wad of paper floated across the space between his and Tetsurou’s desk, landing silently in Koutarou’s lap, unfolding itself with a soft crinkle. They were going further into demon classifications, specifically how to handle and banish each type, things Koutarou more or less knew. He was only half-listening anyway, what with the sunlight filtering through the door and lighting up the back of Akaashi’s hair, bathing him in a lovely halo of light that made him look even more angelic than he looked on any normal passing day. 

Koutarou dropped his gaze to his lap, knowing full well he wasn’t the only one whose mind was elsewhere and read Tetsurou’s note.

_How far do you think I could send a piece of paper before our teacher noticed?_

Koutarou smiled and chewed his bottom lip, his hand reaching forward to tap mindlessly against the surface of his desk, but he stopped himself before it could be a problem. 

As silently as he could he ripped a piece of his paper and scribbled across it quickly.

_If you make it to the front of the room without him noticing I’ll go down to the village on our next free day and buy you the most expensive wine._

With a flick of his hand, he floated the note to Tetsurou.

Tetsurou’s response came back almost instantly.

_Deal._

Koutarou snickered and then, catching his mistake, cleared his throat softly before anyone could send him a knowing look or a glare. He took the chance to glance to the side and bit the inside of his lip as a wad of paper floated from Tetsurou’s desk and began creeping forward, weaving between people, dancing under desks and over laps. When it passed by Kenma, it skirted up his arm, playing in the strands of blond hair that almost met his shoulder.

The glare Kenma shot Tetsurou over his shoulder, as the paper floated away, had Koutarou biting the inside of his cheek to keep from making any noise. Tetsurou just smiled back, leaning lazily over his desk, his right wrist lose and relaxed as his fingers twitched, guiding the paper ever forward. 

The closer it got to the front of the room, and subsequently their teacher, the lower it hung, bouncing across the ground like a silent, and very small, rabbit. Koutarou watched, enthralled as the paper neared the front row of students. It passed the last row of desks and started across the open space between the students and the raised platform the Grand Master sat upon as he gave his lectures. By now, other students had noticed the wad of paper as it made its way, step by step, up the dais. While some struggled to keep their eyes forward, many had given up paying attention entirely, choosing instead to watch with wide eyes and withheld laughter. 

Koutarou took the chance and cast a quick glance towards Akaashi, only to find him as still as ever, looking forward as though nothing were amiss. Koutarou frowned, reluctantly pulling his gaze away from Akaashi’s profile to watch as the wad of paper floated past the Grand Master’s leg, rising up behind him until it hung just over his shoulder, suspended in the air. 

Eyes widening, Koutarou glanced from the wad of paper to Tetsurou, who looked back at him with a shit-eating grin and mouthed, “I win.” 

Koutarou snorted. The Grand Master’s head turned and the wad of paper jumped from one shoulder to the next before he could notice. Koutarou cleared his throat and sat back on his heels, sitting up straight eyes forward. The Grand Master gave him an unamused frown before turning forward again to continue talking about whatever; Koutarou couldn’t even pretend he knew the context of the lecture today. 

The wad of paper bounced back to his original shoulder. By now, everyone in the class was aware of the prank and watching with mixtures of horror, amusement, or, on a few occasions, annoyance. 

“Is something funny?” the Grand Master asked the class, looking over all of them As he did so, Tetsurou spun the paper up and over his head, to hang above him. 

Koutarou snickered and glanced to Tetsurou, trying to signal for him to drop the paper. He’d already won. But Tetsurou leaned over his desk without a care in the word, his cat-like grin anything but subtle as he twirled his finger around, and around, guiding the paper along its course. 

When Tetsurou began guiding the paper in patterns, spelling out some of the rules of the Cloud Recesses behind the Grand Master’s head. Koutarou snorted again, barely concealing it behind his hand, and couldn’t help himself as he turned and looked across the aisle. Akaashi sat still as before, but this time, there was a winkle by his eye, which hadn’t been there before, and his lips gave a small twitch as he inhaled deeply. 

Akaashi was trying his hardest not to laugh, and that’s when Koutarou lost it. His concealed snicker turned into a snort, which in turn made Tetsurou laugh, and soon the two were bent over their desks as the rest of the class watched on. 

“Bokuto,” the Grand Master’s voice rang out over the room, cold and commanding. Koutarou’s snickers died as he looked up, his mouth dry. The wad of paper was no longer floating. “Please tell the class the proper steps to take to deal with a demon.”

Koutarou swallowed around nothing and rose to his feet slowly, wiggling his toes slightly in his sandals to regain some feeling in them. He could sense all eyes on him as he let out a shaky breath. Dealing with a demon, easy enough, he’d gone on enough trips with his father and mother that he had some idea of what they did. 

“First, try to appease the demon,” he said slowly. In the corner of his eye, Akaashi moved to look at him. Koutarou kept his gaze strictly forward. If Akaashi started laughing again it would be over. The Grand Master’s expression gave nothing away so Koutarou continued. “If you can please a demon they become easier to manage and you can deal with them without anyone getting hurt.” 

The Grand Master’s gaze darkened and Koutrou continued before he could be interrupted for not saying exactly the right words. “But that doesn’t always work, so the next step is to catch them and move the demon away from whoever it’s bothering. The last method is to kill them.” 

There was a pause, the silence was thick and awkward. The Grand Master didn’t smile, but he wasn’t scowling any more either, though the wrinkle of annoyance between his thick eyebrows hadn’t let up. “Which method is most commonly used.”

“The third,” Koutarou said, and then elaborated quickly, “killing a demon.”

“Why?”

Koutarou swallowed. He’d asked his mother this before after he’d seen her decapitate a particularly nasty tree demon that had made a home just outside of a village. As it turned out, the demon had been the spirit of a man who had died in that tree a few years earlier, whose resentment hadn’t ever fully dissipated. 

“It’s the easiest method,” Koutarou said, repeating the words his mother had told him all those years ago. “It can be used on all types of demons even if it isn’t the best method.”

“Oh,” the Grand Master looked surprised at that, “and what is the best method.”

“The first,” Koutarou replied simply, earning looks of surprise from the students around him, in particular, Tetsurou who was trying to mouth something to him. Koutarou didn’t dare look, only watched the Grand Master as his curious expression darkened. “If we’re able to appease a demon you can help its soul move on,” Koutarou explained, “and then you don’t have to hurt it.”

“But what if it’s hurting other people?”

“That’s terrible,” Koutarou agreed wholeheartedly. “But fighting would just make it angrier, and if you’re hurting a demon, aren’t you doing the same thing? Hurting another person?” 

The gasp that echoed around the room was loud and shocking. Koutarou blinked, glancing at his peers. He turned to Tetsurou who leaned against his desk, head in his hands. Even Kenma watched him with a twisted expression and a small shake of his head. 

When Koutarou looked back to the front of the room, the Grand Master’s face was twisted in what Koutarou could only describe as rage. The Grand Master opened his mouth as though to speak, but another voice cut in before he could, “I think what Bokuto-san is trying to say, is that the option of appeasing a demon leads to less collateral damage.” Koutarou turned. Across the aisle, Akaashi had stood. His hands were clasped in front of him and his face was relaxed, though a small tremor ran across his shoulders. Akaashi’s father watched with dark eyes and an equally dark frown. “By appeasing a demon, you not only help a soul move on from this world as opposed to destroying it, you are also helping the family, who may still be affected by the demon. There is also a lower chance of setting the demon into a frenzy if it wasn’t in one already.” 

The Grand Master was silent, watching his son with an unreadable expression. Tetsurou had called Akaashi cold weeks earlier, but looking at it now it was clear that the Grand Master was the cold one. Cold and terrifying. Koutarou wasn’t sure how Akaashi wasn’t trembling, but perhaps growing up with him helped. Before any more could be said a loud gong rang out through the Cloud Recesses, signaling an end of lessons for the day. 

Every student rose to their feet as their teacher looked them over, seemingly unimpressed. “We will continue this riveting discussion of demon-dealing methods tomorrow,” the Grand Master said. “Good day.”

With a bow, the students chimed in their goodbyes and turned to leave. As always, Akaashi was the first to step into the aisle way and start towards the door. Today, Koutarou didn’t wait for Tetsurou, but started after Akaashi and almost immediately got stuck in the mob of students trying to leave the classroom all at once. 

Koutarou caught up with Akaashi on one of the colonnades outside. “Akaashi, wait!” Koutarou called. 

Akaashi stopped, turning to him, his expression as guarded and sleepy as ever, but there was something in his eyes that shimmered ever so slightly in the afternoon sun. “Yes, Bokuto-san? How can I help you?” 

The cadence of Akaashi’s voice washed over Koutarou, and he let out a breath and dipped his head slightly. “Thank you,” Koutarou said, “for standing up and explaining when I couldn’t.”

“It’s nothing, Boktuto-san,” Akaashi replied easily, turning as though to wander off. Koutarou searched for words, anything to keep Akaashi even a moment longer, but before he could say anything, Akaashi continued, “My father can be rather stuck in his ways, even if he means well.” 

“Mine too,” Koutarou said, though that wasn’t entirely true. 

Over his shoulder, Koutarou caught the hint of what could almost have been a smile sliding across Akaashi’s face. “Parents tend to be like that.”

“Yes,” Koutarou agreed quickly, maybe too quickly. 

“Oh, and some advice,” Akaashi said, looking over his shoulder, his expression was back to neutral, but his eyes were shining even brighter than they had been when they started, and Koutarou’s breath was gone. “Perhaps tell Kuroo-san not to cause any more trouble. My father isn’t as clueless as he may seem.” 

With that, Akaashi started back down the path, away from where the other students ate lunch, towards the private quarter of the Fukurodani Clan. All Koutarou could do was nod as he watched Akaashi’s figure disappear behind a corner and replay that moment again and again in his mind, wondering, not for the first time, what Akaashi’s face looked like if he smiled fully.

* * *

**III: Trouble-Making**

The sun had just barely set when Koutarou made it back up the mountain, three jars of the best alcohol in hand. He still owed Tetsu for that stunt he’d pulled in class the other day after all. While Koutarou had made it through the archway before the outside wards had settled over the mountainside, the front entrance of the settlement was surely being watched by now. Even with two days off as the Grand Master traveled for business, the rules still had to be followed, and of them said that students had to be in the compound by nightfall. Koutarou, however, had learned early on — from Tetsu of course — that the walls surrounding the Cloud Recesses were easy to climb over if one knew where the right tree was. 

Balancing three jars and climbing a tree proved more difficult than he’d originally thought it would be, but he made it over the white stone wall with ease and minimal loss of alcohol — a truly important feat. Tetsurou and Kenma were waiting for him in one of the side courtyards, tucked away between two thick shrubs, and hidden in the dark shadow of a low hanging tree in full bloom.

Tetsurou and Kenma both leaned against the tree, pressed side-by-side as they whispered to one another. Koutarou had found them like this more often than not. It must have been part of the perks of childhood best friends. But sometimes, Koutarou caught Tetsurou’s eye lingering on Kenma, even when the smaller boy was turned away, even as he walked away, and something in Koutarou’s chest ached for Tetsurou, though he couldn’t quite place why.

Tetsurou was the first one to notice Koutarou’s approach, or perhaps Kenma had noticed as well but had just made his acknowledgment less obvious. Tetsurou undraped himself from Kenma’s shoulders, eyes lighting up. “You got the good stuff, I hope,” he said as Koutarou slipped around the brush and plopped down crossed-legged in front of them.

“Of course!” Koutarou laughed and then flinched, realizing just how loud his voice was in the otherwise silent night. Tetsurou chuckled as Koutarou set out three silver jugs of alcohol. 

Tetsurou’s eyes widened and he reached forward, popping off the cork to take a long sip. He smacked his lips together and smiled. “Perfect.”

Koutarou opened a separate jar for himself, taking a sip of the bitter wine, wincing slightly as it slid down his throat, but ultimately smiled as it settled warm in his stomach. Perfect indeed.

“You know,” Tetsurou said after taking another few sips. “I can actually understand a few of the three thousand some-odd rules they have for this place. But no alcohol,” Tetsurou took another large gulp from his jar, “that one I just don’t get.” 

The conversation flowed easily, as it generally did with Tetsurou, wine or not. With no lectures tomorrow, they could relax and talk late into the night with no fear of getting reprimanded for sleeping in. Drink flowed freely between them, even Kenma had a sip, though he was left with an expression of someone who had bitten directly into a lemon, which had Tetsurou laughing so hard, wine shot out of his nose. As Koutarou looked between them, a lazy smile slid across his lips. The Cloud Recesses were great. Meeting Tetsurou was awesome, and even Kenma was fun and witty when he finally opened his mouth. Just talking with them was wonderful. The only thing that would make the night better was seeing Akaashi. 

Koutarou couldn’t help but wonder what Akaashi looked like relaxed. Had he ever even been relaxed? Was he allowed or was no relaxation one of the three thousand rules of the Fukurodani clan? Koutarou honestly couldn’t remember. But if Akaashi did let himself relax maybe his shoulders would drop, and the thin line of his mouth would ease. He’d smile. He’d look good smiling, Koutarou knew that in his soul, not that he’d ever seen Akaashi smile fully. He’d caught hints of it, a glint in an endlessly green eye, a corner of a pink lip lifting up, but he’d never seen the full thing, and he wanted to. Badly.

“Oh, Akaashi, good evening.” Tetsurou’s cheerful voice brought Koutarou back to his body.

He jolted, turning around too quickly that the earth swayed under him and he ended up on his stomach, staring out into a completely empty courtyard. With a frustrated huff, he righted himself and tossed an unamused glare to Tetsurou, who was hunched over cackling. When he sat up, his eyes were glittering and his smile was wide and mischievous. “You are _so_ whipped, Bo,” Tetsurou laughed.

Koutarou frowned and mumbled into his jar, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” 

“Whipped,” Tetsurou repeated, popping the ‘ _p_ ’ while pointing an accusatory finger. “Just admit it.”

“No, no no,” Koutarou insisted. “I don’t like Akaashi. Or, well, I do, but I don’t — I wanna be his friend.” 

“His _friend_ ,” Tetsurou repeated with a wiggle of his eyebrows. “That you can kiss, and hug, and—”

“N-no! Don’t put words in my mouth!” Kotarou said into his hands as he tried to hide the flush of his cheeks.

“I’m not. I’m just explaining your thoughts for you,” Tetsurou leaned back against the tree, swirling his mostly empty jug around and around. “Because you _like_ him.”

Koutarou whined. His cheeks blazed against his palms, maybe it was the alcohol, but his nerves buzzed with embarrassment.

“It is fairly obvious,” Kenma said simply. 

Koutarou’s head shot up, eyes wide, breath coming short. “It is?” he squeaked.

Tetsurou gave him a pitying look. “Bo, I think everyone in the Cloud Recesses knows you have a thing for Akaashi.”

“They do!” Koutarou gasped and then his eyes went wide and he leaned forward, knocking over one of the jars as he did so. He’d deal with that later. He swallowed around the lump in his throat, glanced back and forth to see if anyone was hiding in the bushes, waiting to listen in on his conversation, and asked as softly as he could muster, “Does… does Akaashi know?”

Tetsurou and Kenma exchanged a look, one of their private conversations that even sober Koutarou couldn't quite understand. “Well,” Tetsurou said. “Not _everyone_ here knows.” 

“That doesn’t tell me if Akaashi knows!” Koutarou cried and then sat back and buried his face in his hands with a groan. “If he knows… maybe that’s why he won’t talk to me. He thinks I’m a creep! Or a weirdo! Or he wants nothing to do with me!” 

“Why don’t you just ask him yourself?” Tetsurou said smugly. 

When Koutarou looked up, that mischievous glint was back in his gaze, and his attention was trained just over Koutarou’s shoulder. Koutarou frowned at his friend. “What do you want me to say? ‘Hi Akaashi, I know we’ve just met but I think you're _really_ pretty and—’”

“Koutarou,” Kenma warned, his own gaze wide and trained on something past the shrubs.

But Koutarou wasn’t falling for that trick, not for a second time that night. “‘ —I like the way your hair looks in the sunlight. Or the way you chew the end of your calligraphy brush when you’re thinking. Or how you rescue birds when they fall from their nests and you sit and watch them until they’re able to fly again. I think you’re one of the smartest, most beautiful people I’ve ever met, and—” 

A presence loomed over Koutarou as a pair of soft footsteps stopped right behind him and a voice said softly, “Bokuto-san?”

Koutarou flinched, falling backward against a set of firm legs. He tilted his head back and met a pair of green eyes, bright even in the shadowed moonlight. “Hello ‘Kaashi,” Bokuto slurred and then picked up the empty jar he had knocked over some minutes prior, holding it up in offering. “Would you like some?”

Akaashi looked down at him, in the moonlight it almost looked like his cheeks were colored slightly, and said carefully, “No alcohol is permitted in the Cloud Recesses.” 

Koutarou frowned. “You need to have more fun” he huffed, leaning further back, only to stop as bony knees dug into his shoulders. He froze, suddenly aware of the soft flesh supporting him and rocked forward quickly stammering an apology. 

“You’re fine, Bokuto-san,” Akaashi insisted. “But the three of you need to go.”

“But you just got here,” Koutarou pouted. 

Akaashi nodded. “Yes, because you all were being loud. If any of the guards find you—”

“Young Master Akaashi,” a distant voice called. 

“—we’re all in trouble,” Akaashi finished with a grimace. He looked over the group with stern eyes. “Don’t say anything. I’ll handle this.” 

Almost immediately after Akaashi turned his back, Tetsurou started chuckling into his hand, earning him a hard look from Kenma and an elbow between the ribs. Neither seemed to do anything to slow his laughter. “You thought we were tricking you!” Tetsurou said between muffled chuckles.

Koutarou sent him a pleading look. “You did it before!”

“Is there a problem, Young Master Akaashi,” the distant guard said from a slightly less-distant position. “I thought I heard something.” 

“And then you fell into him!” Tetsurou’s cackle only grew. “You should have seen your face. No. you should have seen his—” And all at once, the sounds stopped. 

Tetsurou’s mouth was clamped closed, and no sound came out. Koutarou watched with a tilt of his head as his friend struggled to even open his mouth. 

“I won’t let it happen again,” Akaashi said, and Koutarou glanced over his shoulder, catching only a sliver of Akaashi’s lean back from between the shrubs. Akaashi bowed once to someone out of sight. “Sorry again for worrying you.” 

“Sorry for disturbing you, Young Master,” the no-longer-very-distant guard said, followed by the gentle sounds of sandals crossing grass. And then there was silence. 

For a moment, no one moved, and then Akaashi turned around and walked calmly over to stand between the hedges. He looked them over again before his gaze settled on Kenma. “Can you walk Kuroo-san back to his room?” 

Kenma nodded. Tetsurou tried to reply, maybe to insist that he was fine, maybe to say something else, but his mouth stayed closed, and only the sound of muffled huffs could be made out. 

“Sorry about that, but you were being far too loud. The silencing spell will wear off in an incense’s time,” Akaashi instructed as Kenma pulled Tetsurou to his feet. 

Tetsurou swayed for a moment before draping himself over Kenma’s shoulders. Kenma frowned, and for a second Koutarou was sure Kenma was going to step to the side and let Tetsurou fall. Instead, Kenma adjusted Tetsurou’s arm, wrapped his spare arm around Tetsurou’s waist, and walked forward, a movement he was seemingly comfortable with. His expression was calm but also expectant. Maybe this was why he hadn’t had anything to drink.

Koutarou stood to let them past and the earth swayed under his feet. He blinked at Akaashi, surprised and pleased that he didn’t have to strain his neck to meet his gaze. In fact, he had to look down now. 

“There’s one more jar left?” Koutarou offered, gesturing to the untouched jug still on the floor.

Akaashi was already reaching down to pick it up. He popped off the cork and Koutarou’s smile widened and then fell as Akaashi turned over the jug and poured the alcohol into the bushes. Wordlessly, he stashed the three empty jars into the shrubs with a sigh and shook his head as he turned back to Koutarou. “I will collect them in the morning. First, let’s get you back to your room.”

“I’m fine!” Koutarou instead, and then took a step forward, swaying as the ground moved beneath him. It was like standing on a ship. He giggled at the thought. 

“Of course you are, Bokuto-san,” Akaashi replied easily, as he guided one of Koutarou’s arms over his shoulder, and then wrapped another around Koutarou’s waist in the same manner that Kenma had with Tetsurou not minutes earlier.

Koutarou let himself sink into Akaashi’s warmth. He tried to hold himself up on his legs, and with Akaashi’s guidance, it was easy to walk in a straight line. Still, every few steps, Koutarou found himself, glancing at Akaashi’s profile, admiring the sharp slope of his jaw, the beautiful corner of his eye, the warm planes of his cheeks, glowing faintly silver in the moonlight. 

They passed through the courtyard and down covered colonnades and around various buildings of the Cloud Recesses. All the while, Akaashi was a warm presence at Koutarou’s side. He smelled wonderful too, of green tea and something else, warm water, soap maybe. His white robes were plain sleep clothes, and yet he still looked perfect and put together. Koutarou wasn’t kidding earlier, Akaashi was beautiful. Always. 

And he’d said all that out loud. Koutarou’s eyes widened and he swallowed around a lump in his throat. “How much did you hear?” Koutarou asked, and then when Akaashi glanced at him, one thick eyebrow raised, specified. “Earlier. When I was talking”

“Oh…” Akaashi looked away but didn’t move out from under Koutarou’s arm. This close, even turning his head couldn't hide the red that spread across his cheeks and danced across his ears. 

Koutarou had never wanted to kiss an ear more. Kiss an ear? Was that weird? Koutarou blinked back to the present. “‘M sorry if I weirded you out,” he mumbled.

Suddenly Akaashi’s eyes were back on him, bright and so green against the red flush of his face, which was funny because Akaashi hadn’t been drinking, had he? “Bokuto-san,” Akaashi started slowly, as though looking for the words. “You don’t have anything to worry about. You were drunk, I know you weren’t being serious.”

“But it is serious!” Koutarou insisted. “’M so serious!”

“Bokuto-san, volume,” Akaashi hissed, his gaze sweeping the courtyard and the rooms that they passed with perfect, green eyes.

“I meant what I said,” Koutarou continued but dropped his volume when Akaashi gave him a look, or at least tried to, he wasn’t sure how loud he was or wasn’t speaking, it was impossible to tell. “You’re the nicest person ever. And you’re super pretty, and smart, and good looking, though that means the same thing as pretty, and you work hard. You’re good at everything, Akaashi. You’re perfect!”

Akaashi’s eyes widened, and then his mouth settled into a small frown and his gaze softened. “I’m not,” he said, so quietly Koutarou almost missed it. There was a tone to his voice that Koutarou couldn’t place. He opened his mouth but Akaashi continued as if he hadn’t said anything at all. “Here we are.”

Koutarou looked up. Sure enough, they were in front of his room. One arm still wrapped snugly around Koutarou’s waist, Akaashi reached forward and slid open the door, stepping carefully into the room. He paused in the entrance for a minute, and Koutarou blinked, letting his eyes adjust to the limited moonlight that came in through the room’s small windows. 

When Akaashi moved again, his steps were perfectly quiet. Koutarou dropped his head, watching as one foot after the other peaked out from under Akaashi’s robes. “You didn’t have to take your shoes off.”

Akaashi didn’t reply, just led Koutarou to his sleeping pallet at the side of the room and laid him down almost carefully. The world spun for a second but then Koutarou closed his eyes and everything settled into peaceful stillness. “‘Kaashi?” Koutarou mumbled.

“Yes, Bokuto-san?” Akaashi’s voice carried well through the dark, warm and comforting. He was far away, or he sounded far away. Koutarou wanted nothing more than to open his eyes and get one last look, but suddenly his body was too heavy, and he was so comfortable. 

“I meant what I said,” Koutarou replied, or tried to. He thought he said the words.

“Of course, Bokuto-san.” 

Akaashi’s voice was so smooth and soft and warm. Perfect like the rest of him. 

“That’s because you’re drunk,” Akaashi replied, and Koutarou must have made a noise or maybe Akaashi was just a mind reader because he continued a moment later, “you think my voice is nice because you're drunk.”

Funny, Koutarou didn’t remember saying that out loud. Akaashi must be a mind reader then.

“You did say it out loud, Bokuto-san,” came Akaashi’s reply. He was close now, Koutarou could hear the quiet huffs of his exhale. “No one can read minds.”

“Not even you?” That didn’t seem likely. Akaashi could probably do anything.

There was a quiet exhale. “Especially not me. Good night, Bokuto-san.”

Koutarou forced one eye open. Through the darkness, he watched as Akaashi slipped his shoes back on and glanced over his shoulder, wearing something similar to a smile. But Koutarou wasn’t so sure, because sleep followed soon after.

\---------

The next morning, Koutaou woke up to his door sliding shut with a _woosh_ so quiet he was sure he’d made it up. Bright, mid-morning sunlight streaming through his windows as he sat up with a groan. His head was pounding, maybe drinking an entire jug of wine by himself hadn’t been a good idea. Before he could curse himself too much, he turned and found a light-jade tea kettle steaming gently with a matching jade cup. Carved into the side was the Fukurodani Clan emblem. 

Smiling, Koutarou poured himself a cup, promising to thank Akaashi later.

* * *

**IV: The Springs**

Koutarou had expected a lot of embarrassment and awkwardness after recalling his conversation with — and about — Akaashi. But despite the odd half-confession, and the mild humiliation of having to be walked back to his room, nothing changed between them. If anything, Akaashi was friendlier. He still vanished most afternoons. As the heir to Fukurodani, he had more training and work to do on top of the lectures he attended. But now Koutarou had started walking with him after class to the edge of the Fukurodani sector of the compound, or sitting in the courtyard together in the early evenings. Sometimes, they’d even eat before Akaashi vanished to do whatever it was he had to do in the evenings. That was how Koutarou learned that Akaashi could finish twice as much food as Koutarou could in a single sitting and still be hungry two hours later. 

Time at the Cloud Recesses ticked on, and though Koutarou had yet to see a full smile from Akaashi, he caught more and more hints of it and learned that even if Akaashi’s lips didn’t raise he could still smile, still laugh with his eyes. When he and Tetsurou messed around in class, sending paper wads or paper figures weaving through the desk, Akaashi would never look away from the Grand Master but there would be a glint in his eye, and after class, he’d always make some comment to Koutarou about his paper folding skills or share a snide remark with Tetsurou. 

One time, Tetsurou had caught a canary and smuggled the cage into class, hiding the small bird under his desk. It chipped and sang, and yet the Grand Master didn’t blink once and never called either Koutarou or Tetsurou out except to answer a legitimate question Tetsurou had. The whole time, Akaashi’s gaze shifted rapidly from looking ahead, to glancing to the side, his eyes wide and green and sparkling like those of a small child. After class, Koutarou made sure to ask if Akaashi wanted to see the bird, which he agreed to readily with an excited nod and eyes so bright it was like looking through the forest’s canopy and into the sun. Koutarou could have sworn Akaashi’s lips twisted up when Tetsurou pulled out the cage. 

Of course, there were some days Akaashi hung back to speak with his father. Some days, when Koutarou would wait outside of the classroom, only to be greeted with a stiff nod, a downtrodden gaze, and silence. Those were the worst days. Akaashi wouldn’t wait for him, wouldn’t eat, would vanish not to be seen until lessons the next morning. 

“I tried asking,” Koutarou said, sheathing his sword and wiping sweat from his brow. Although fighting was not permitted in the Cloud Recesses, there was an unofficial amendment to that rule: practice wasn’t allowed within the compound of the Cloud Recesses, but the forest was free game. And so Koutarou and Tetsurou often found themselves alongside the river, exchanging blows and tips and, as of most recently, relationship advice — or Akaashi advice, as the case was, Tetsu was very careful not to bring up too much of this thing with Kenma, whatever it was.

“And what did he say?” Tetsurou asked, sounding tired, like he already knew the answer. They’d had this conversation before. In fact, they had this conversation every time Akaashi was down or wouldn’t give Koutarou the time of day. 

“That he was fine,” Koutarou mumbled, running a finger across the smooth metal of his blade. “But he wasn’t fine! Anyone could see that!”

“I understand that you’re worried, Bo, but it sounds like he doesn’t want to talk about it.”

Koutarou pouted and sat down on the nearest rock. If he turned he could look over the river that flowed down from the mountains, it’s water clear and deceptively cold even under the heat of the summer sun. “I know I just… I wish he would talk to me about things. I don’t like that he’s upset.”

“Maybe it’s something that he can’t talk about,” Tetsurou said, hovering over Koutaoru’s shoulder. “I’m sure he’ll tell you when he’s ready. Or he won’t, and it’s nothing for you to worry about. Honestly, the guy rarely smiles as is, I don’t know how you can even tell he’s upset.”

“Hey! Akaashi smiles!” Koutarou’s huff was met with a raised eyebrow and an unamused look from Tetsurou. “He might not look like he does, and it might not look like one of your smiles, but he does it. They’re just small and hard to see. He's like Kenma that way.”

“I see Kenma smile all the time,” Tetsurou pointed out unhelpfully. “And name one time when Akaashi smiled. I’m not talking about that glittering-eye-crap you go off about every other day, I mean an honest, full up-turned-lip deal?” 

Koutarou couldn’t answer that because, well, he’d never seen it, not fully. A firm hand came to rest on his shoulder. “Bo,” Testurou said with such seriousness, “You really don’t need to worry about him.”

“I know,” Koutarou sighed. “I really just wish he’d talk to me.”

“Well, remember, you can always just get drunk and confess. Again.”

Koutarou shoved Testurou’s hand off of him. His face burned as he stood. As much as things had been normal after that night, it didn’t mean it and his stupidity wasn't always on his mind. “Not like it worked the first time,” Koutarou mumbled. 

Tetsurou laughed, loud and hard, and smacked him on the back. “Time to try again then,” he said cheerfully. “Hey, I promised Kenma I’d meet him in the library, are you joining us?”

“No,” Koutarou said with a shake of his head. “I’m gonna practice some more.”

“Alright. Don’t wear yourself out!” Tetsurou called, as he started back on the path through the forest to the sanctuary atop the mountain.

Koutarou smiled and watched him go with a wave. The truth was, he didn’t need to practice more, but Tetsurou undoubtedly wanted time with Kenma, and Koutarou, being the good bro that he was, planned on giving them that space. If the last few weeks had shown him anything — aside from Akaashi’s hidden smiles and warmth — was that Tetsurou also had his own feelings to sort out, even if he didn’t like talking about them. 

“And he gives me a hard time,” Koutarou mumbled, pulling out his sword to walk himself through the stances and formations until sweat dripped into his eyes and his muscles were hot and aching under his skin. 

The sky was still light, the sun had not yet started dipping down towards the horizon, so Koutarou sheathed his sword a second time and hiked deeper into the woods. He discovered this path by accident about a week ago when he was left alone for another afternoon. The path was worn and clearly used, and yet Koutarou was the only person he’d seen use it, and he hadn’t heard anyone else talk about a cold spring in the middle of the mountains, which was why it surprised him to see a figure lounging in the cool water as he approached down the hill.

It wasn’t until Koutarou drew closer that he recognized who it was, and his eyes widened. “Akaashi!” he called, racing down the path, past the bamboo and trees, heart thundering in his chest, though that had to be because of the heat.

Akaashi startled, his eyes blinking open rapidly. Koutarou cursed himself for disturbing the other boy. Akaashi looked like he could use the rest. As Koutarou neared the back, Akaashi whipped around, fumbling with his robs, which he had folded atop a rock behind him, pulling them around himself furiously on as Koutarou stopped at the edge of the pool. 

Koutarou ignored the disappointment that coursed through his system, as Akaashi’s fair shoulders vanished under pure white robes. “I’m sorry,” he said, much too loudly, earning another small jump from Akaashi, who turned to face him, now fully covered. “I didn’t mean to bother you.”

“You’re not bothering me,” Akaashi said quickly, smoothing out his robe in the water. The white cloth stuck to him like a second skin, and parts of it turned almost transparent in the water. Koutarou forced his eyes up, keeping a steady gaze on Akaashi’s face, and only his face. “You just surprised me, that’s all.” 

Koutarou nodded, though he only half-heard what the other had to say. Akaashi’s cheeks were a warm pink, odd as the springs weren’t heated, but filled with cool water that flowed down from the ice-capped mountains. Perhaps he’d been sitting in the springs for too long. Sometimes Mei’s nose turned a rosy-red in the winter if she didn’t cover her nose and cheeks. 

“You are welcome to join me,” Akaashi said after a moment, and then his eyes widened and he continued hastily, “I mean if you would like. I could also leave—”

“No,” Koutarou cut him off quickly, perhaps too quickly and a touch too desperately. “It’s okay. I’ll,” he swallowed around a lump rapidly forming in his throat, “join you.”

For another few seconds, all Koutarou could do was hover at the edge of the pond, toying with the edges of his robes. Akaashi swallowed and turned away, the pink-color spreading to his ears. Koutarou disrobed but ended up keeping his underlayer on more for Akaashi’s sake than his own. 

He slipped into the water as quietly as he could, which of course resulted in a huge splash. The water was icy against his skin, his muscles tensed and then relaxed as he sunk into the cold with a sigh. Koutarou leaned back against the rocks and opened his eyes, watching as Akaashi looked at anything in the area except him. Something twisted in his gut. “Are you alright?” Koutarou asked.

Akaashi blinked and turned to him slowly, almost mechanically. “Yes, Bokuto-san. I’m sorry if I worried you.”

With that said, Akaashi looked away, his green gaze trained on the forest. His profile was sweeping and elegant as always, but it was the tight twist of his lips that had Koutarou frowning and saying, “If you want to say anything… you can tell me. I know I’m not smart, or anything like that, but I can listen!”

Akaashi’s eyes returned to his a moment later, and something in his gaze softened. “Bokuto-san, you really are...” Akaashi’s voice faded as his cheeks reddened. His gaze shifted and his expression closed. “Thank you for the offer. I’m mostly just surprised. I didn’t think anyone else knew about this place.”

“Same!” Koutarou exclaimed. “I found it by accident a little bit ago, but hadn’t seen anyone else here, so I thought—” Koutarou cut himself off, turning his gaze back to Akaashi, his lips pulled down into a pout. “I was serious you know. I can tell you’re bothered by something and you can tell me. If you’d like. Tetsurou said that it might be something you can’t talk about, but I want you to know that I can listen. If you want.”

“You talk about me with Tetsurou?” Akaashi asked lightly, and there was something teasing in his voice and in his eyes.

Koutarou sputtered. “Y-Yes! Nothing bad, I promise. I was just worried and needed some advice and— Hey! You’re distracting me again.”

“Sorry,” Akaashi said from behind his hand, and Koutarou barely caught the crinkle at the corner of his eyes before it was gone, and Akaashi’s hand dropped to reveal his usual collected expression. Koutarou wasn’t sure if the jolt down his spine was thrill at almost catching Akaashi's smile or disappointment that Akaashi felt the need to hide behind his hand. 

“If you don’t wanna talk about it, we don’t have to,” Koutarou said quickly.

Akaashi shook his head. “It’s not that. It’s just… rather silly.”

Once again, Akaashi wouldn’t look at him. With a frown, Koutarou shifted through the cold water, ignoring the sting in his toes and the goosebumps that ran along his arms. Akaashi showed no signs of discomfort at the temperature, and he’d been bathing for even longer than Koutarou. “Akaashi, I don’t think it is,” Koutarou said quietly. He couldn’t explain why he thought that it was just a feeling, something etched into his chest that he just _knew_. Whatever Akaashi was worried about, it wasn’t silly. It never would be. 

Akaashi let out a long breath, one against look past Koutarou and out into the forest. That twisted frown was back across his lips and Koutarou wanted nothing more than to see it gone. He was about to break the stifling silence, but Akaashi spoke first, his voice quiet. “My father wants me to lead the next mission, whatever it is.”

Koutarou's eyes widened. “Really?”

“Yes.”

“That’s so cool!” Koutarou exclaimed, and Akaashi let out a long breath.

“I expected you to say that,” Akaashi said, and while he didn’t sound happy or pleased with that, he didn’t seem upset. In fact, his frown had faded slightly, which Koutarou would count as a small victory. 

Koutarou took in Akaashi’s expression, no longer tense but not celebrating. “You’re not happy about it?”

Akaashi shook his head. “I’m not.”

“Why.”

Akaashi sighed, chewed on his bottom lip slightly — a motion Koutarou desperately tried not to stare too hard at — and then met Koutarou’s gaze again. “I’m not a fighter.”

Koutarou frowned. “What? Of course, you are.”

Akaashi didn’t look very convinced. “You’ve never even seen me pick up a sword, Bokuto-san.”

“But you’re you,” Koutarou insisted.

Akaashi gave him a flat look. “That doesn’t mean anything.”

“Yes, it does!” Koutarou said with an amused huff. “Because you’re Akaashi. You’re smart, and kind, and a hard worker. You’re good at everything!”

Akaashi’s expression fell within the second. His lips twisted into that sad frown, the very expression Koutarou had been trying to get rid of. Akaashi pushed past him wading through the water. He pushed himself out of the pool, and Koutarou averted his eyes quickly as to not fall into the temptation of watching the water drip down Akaashi’s long legs, or observe how his white robes clung to his skin, light and translucent in places where it clung to his skin. 

“I’m sorry,” Koutarou said, turning to Akaashi when he couldn’t bear the silence anymore, happy to see that he was wrapped in a second layer of dry robes. “I didn’t mean to upset you.”

Akaashi sighed, soft and quick, glancing over his shoulder. “You didn’t, but you should know that I… I’m not.”

Koutarou tilted his head, wading to the edge of the pond, to lean against the rocks. He had to tilt his head slightly to look up at Akaashi, but having this conversation at a distance felt wrong. 

“Good at everything,” Akaashi explained, his voice so soft that even close, Koutarou could barely make out what he said. He cleared his throat. “I’m not a fighter. Not like you, Bokuto-san.”

“Like _me_?” Koutarou repeated, a confused pout crossing his lips. “But we’ve never trained together. How do you know—?”

“I’m sorry. I must go,” Akaashi said quickly. His eyes were impossibly wide and impossibly green in comparison to the bright red that spread from one cheek, over his nose, spilling across the other. “I… I am having dinner with my father, and I cannot go in wet robes.”

“Oh, alright,” Koutarou said with a nod. “I’ll see you tomorrow.” 

Akaashi turned and started back up the path quickly. There was something shaky and almost forced in his movements, but Koutarou couldn’t figure out what it was. “Yes. Tomorrow.”

“Bye, ‘Kaashi!” Koutarou called after him.

Akaashi paused, halfway up the hill to the main part of the trail that led back to the encampment. He glanced over his shoulders, the corner of his lip turned up ever-so-slightly. “Goodbye, Bokuto-san” 

With that he was gone, and as was Koutarou’s ability to breathe. He sunk into the water, watching the spot Akaashi had vanished from, that small smile stashed deep in his mind along with every other. He closed his eyes and shook his head, Akaashi’s words still echoing in his ears.

“Not a fighter like me,” Koutarou mumbled into the water, watching small bubbles come up where his breath escaped. “What does that mean?” He’d have to ask Tetsurou when he saw him next.

* * *

**V: Demon Hunting**

Akaashi’s fear came to fruition even sooner than Koutarou expected. They were in the middle of a lecture on fighting styles, maybe — Koutrou had zoned out after some time, choosing instead to be entertained by watching Tetsurou struggle to get Kenma’s attention from the row ahead of them — when the door slid open. An attendant hurried down the center aisle that split the two sides of the classroom before stopping at the foot of the dais and browning deeply.

“Grand Master,” the attendant started. She already sounded out of breath. “Pardon the intrusion.” 

The Grand Master stopped mid-sentence, looking the young woman over with a slight frown. “Speak.”

The attendant stood up, rim-rod straight, her fists clenched to her side. She was shaking ever so slightly, if that was because of the news she carried or the Grand Master’s stare it was impossible to know. “There has been an attack at the village. A Lake Demon has begun causing trouble, sinking boats, even destroying one of the docks.” 

The Grand Master’s face gave nothing away, but his eyes went immediately to Akaashi. “Then we shall go and investigate. Keiji.” 

Akaashi rose calmly to his feet. If it weren’t for the conversation just days earlier, Koutarou would never have known that Akaashi was feeling any hesitation or fear about the assignment he was about to receive. If Koutarou hadn’t known to look close enough, he would have missed the tremor in Akaashi’s hands and the small line that formed between Akaashi’s eyebrows as he held back a frown. “Yes, Grand Master?” he asked with a bow as if he had no idea what was coming. 

“You will lead this expedition. The guards and I will join you, but you may choose three other students to accompany us,” the Grand Master explained. Akaashi didn’t seem surprised, which either meant Akaashi had known this was coming or was very good at tailoring his expression. Though both were possible, and neither mutually exclusive. “Who will you take, Keiji?” 

Koutarou at least expected a pause for consideration, Akaashi wasn’t the type to do anything without thought, but there was barely a breath before he said, “Kozume Kenma, Kuroo Tetsuro, and Bokuto Koutarou.” Akaashi didn’t even glance at them when he spoke, just continued to hold the Grand Master’s gaze without hesitation. 

The Grand Master did pause then. If he was surprised at Akaashi’s picks — and he must have been, he hated Koutarou, barely tolerated Tetsurou, and probably didn’t even know who Kenma was — it didn’t show, not overtly at least, but there was a small twitch in his jaw. After a quiet moment, he nodded and turned his attention to the class. “Lecture is over for the day,” he said simply, sounding ever-so-slightly annoyed, although Koutarou couldn’t tell if that was because he had to finish the lecture early, because there was a demon to handle, or because of who Akaashi had chosen to accompany him. “The three who are joining the mission stay behind. The rest of you are dismissed.”

The class cleared out slowly, constantly looking over their shoulders and whispering amongst themselves, but Koutarou spared them little thought as he jumped up and raced to Akaashi’s side, who had stepped into the hallway to stand before the dais. 

“Akaashi! Akaashi!” he cried, “thank—”

“We will be leaving in half an hour,” the Grand Master said, cutting Koutarou off as though he hadn’t said a word. “We will meet in the front courtyard by the main gate. Bring your weapons and anything else you believe you will need. Pack light and do not be late. You three,” the Grand Master looked between Tetsurou, Koutarou, and Kenma with something akin to displeasure. “Are dismissed. Keiji, we need to talk.”

Kenma was the first to bow, quiet and deep, and Koutarou followed his lead, keeping his gaze down. His shoulder brushed Akaashi’s as he turned and walked out of the classroom. The door closed behind them with a _woosh_ , and once he was sure the Grand Master could no longer see them, he turned to Tetsurou and Kenma with wide eyes. 

Tetsurou looked just as shocked. His usual shit-eating grin was gone, replaced by a slack jaw, and eyes bright with overflowing excitement. Even Kenma bounced slightly on his heels. 

“We were chosen,” Koutarou said to Tetsurou. “Akaashi chose _us_.”

“He did!” Tetsurou said and then he laughed, slapping Koutarou on the back. “Thanks, bro.”

Koutarou sent him a confused look. “What?”

“Please. Don’t think I haven’t missed how much time you and Akaashi have spent together.” Tetsurou wiggled his eyebrows suggestively and Koutarou’s face warmed. “You two got friendly and suddenly we’re all on a mission together.”

“I didn’t—”

Koutarou cut him off with a wave of his hand. “Yes, you did. Don’t try and hide it.”

“We should go,” Kenma said suddenly, giving Tetsurou a hard look and a quick tug on his sleep. “We all need to grab our things, so you two can finish this conversation later.”

“Fine, “ Tetsurou huffed before sending one last smug smile to Koutarou. “Thanks again, Bo.” 

Koutarou wasn’t given time to explain himself or even try to parse out Keiji’s logic before Kenma was dragging Koutarou away, muttering something about how much gauze they’d probably need and what the easiest herbs to carry would be. Koutarou, on the other hand, hovered by the door. Without Tetsurou’s loud chatter, if he leaned in close he could hear through the screen, or try to. 

“They are all highly capable.” Akaashi’s voice was soft but firm. Koutarou had never heard him sound so tense. 

“There are more qualified individuals in the class,” the Grand Master replied, calm as usual. “This is a mission, not a time to play with your friends.” 

“These are the people I want to work with. You allowed me to pick, so I did.”

There was a moment of silence, Koutarou almost wished there was a window he could look through so that he could see the Grand Master’s face, or at least Akaashi's. Was he stressed or upset? He didn’t sound like either, but it was truly impossible to know with him. 

“If this missing fails,” the Grand Master said, his voice suddenly sharp as a blade and cold the hidden springs in the forest, “it is on your head, Keiji. It would do you good to remember that.”

“I haven’t forgotten.” Keiji’s tone, on the other hand, was filled with emotion, deep, a bit sad, and partly frustrated. He was probably making that twisted, frowning expression again. Or maybe he wasn't. He always seemed cooler around his father, more in control, or maybe he was just pretending to be more in control. 

“Good. Now, let’s talk out the course of action.”

Koutarou pulled away after that. There was nothing else for him to listen to, not now, and anyway, he’d hear all about the plan later. And he still had to pack and grab his sword. With a huff and one last long look at the door, he started back to his room to get ready for the upcoming fight, for the village and for Akaashi. 

\---------

Brilliant blue-green shined over the water and then vanished as the Grand Master lowered his hand. The seal sparkled where the demon had vanished and then dissipated. The lake continued to thrash back and forth and then settled. Even as everything fell still, no one's eyes left the water for fear of the demon returning and attempting to capsize yet another ship. They’d already lost three boats in the fight. No one had been hurt, thank the Gods, but another boat loss would result in more people squished together. As it was, Koutarou was piled onto one boat with Akaashi, Tetsurou, and Kenma, which was fine as it were, but the boats were small, four was a tight squeeze, any more would be uncomfortable and, likely, impossible. 

When nothing moved, not even a single bubble, a collective breath was released, as they sagged against one another. Tetsurou gave a weak cheer, thumping Koutarou on the back. “That last move. Excellent!” he laughed.

Koutarou laughed with him, pushing wet strands of hair from his face. Just because no one had been hurt when the boats capsized didn’t mean no one had ended up in the water. 

“I bet you’re one of the top swordsmen in the Cloud Recesses, maybe even the country!” Tetsurou continued. 

Koutarou beamed under the praise because it likely held some truth. He knew he was good. For him, sword fighting was like running, something that was there naturally he just needed to work at to be better and better. Besides, he loved it, truly. There was nothing else like it. 

“Let’s head back to the village,” the Grand Master’s voice cut through the cheering from Koutarou and Tetsurou as well as the chatter that came from the rest of the Fukurodani guards. 

Koutarou turned as Akaashi took his place at the front of the boat, raised a hand, and guided the boat forward, trailing half a length behind the Grand Master. As Tetsurou and Kenma settled at the back of the boat, Kenma to treat a cut Tetsurou had received along his right bicep, Koutarou trailed forward to stand just behind Akaashi, not anywhere close to disturb his concentration or get in the way of his magic-casting.

“Good job,” he said softly, or what was softly for him, the look that some of the retainers on other boats told Koutarou that they could probably hear him at least a little. 

“You should be praising yourself, Bokuto-san,” Akaashi replied easily. “You did a good job.”

Koutarou laughed at that, loud and long, earning another glance from the retainers in the Grand Master’s boat, but he paid them no mind. He moved to the side leaning slightly to try and at least see a sliver of Akaashi’s face. “I did, didn’t I? Did you see that last move, Akaashi?”

“Yes,” Akaashi said with a nod.

“It was so cool wasn’t it!”

“It was.” Though his eyes were trained forward, the corner of Akaashi’s lips twitched, and Koutarou’s chest swelled. 

“Tetsurou even thinks I’m one of the best swordsmen in the whole country!” he continued on excitedly. 

For half a second, Akaashi’s gaze shifted from the expanse of water in front of them, and the impending shoreline, to Koutarou’s. “Don’t get ahead of yourself. Your form is still sloppy,” Akaashi chided lightly. Koutarou pouted, but Akaashi continued before his giddiness could completely leave. “But, if I find the time, I’ll join you and Kuroo-san’s practices and… assist. If you would like..”

Koutarou’s eyes widened. “Y-yes! Please. Wait… you know about our practices?”

There was a moment of hesitation, Akaashi’s extended hand trembled slightly and the boat slowly almost imperceptively before it plowed forward. Akaashi swallowed and then nodded. “I may have seen you two in the woods on a… few different occasions.”

Koutarou hadn’t noticed, likely because he had been so invested in his matches against Tetsurou, but also probably because it was Akaashi. He could be very quiet when he wanted to. “You’d join us?” Koutarou asked, doing nothing to hide the excitement that shook his voice. 

Akaashi nodded. “If you’d both be okay—” 

“I get to practice with Akaashi!” Koutarou cheered, throwing his arms around while he danced in his seat. 

“Bokuto-san,” Akaashi said sternly. “Please don’t rock the boat.” 

Koutarou stilled, but the smile that pulled at his cheeks until they ached didn’t go away, even as they returned to the docking station and exited the boat. For a few seconds, the ground under Koutarou’s feet felt like the uneven waves they had just been sitting atop. Walking was awkward and bumbling, though Akaashi made it look easy as he strode forward without hesitation. Koutarou trailed him once the ground stopped moving, weaving through retainers until he saw Akaashi up ahead, stopping in front of the Grand Master.

Akaashi bowed deeply to his father. The Grand Master’s expression was controlled as ever, giving nothing away as he nodded at his son. Koutarou watched on, breath stuck in his chest as he trained his ears for the praise the Grand Master was about to give Akaashi, but he said was, “there wasn’t enough power behind your strokes, you didn’t use your core enough. You need to move faster, and have a steadier hand.”

“Yes, father,” Akaashi said with a nod. 

“You also should have been the one to seal the demon. I shouldn’t have to do that for you.”

“Yes, father. “

Koutarou frowned, his previous excitement drying up with every stiff nod Akaashi gave his father. He never even looked up from the floor.

“And Keiji.” Only upon the use of his first name did Akaashi look up, his expression as carefully blank as his father’s, but Koutarou didn’t miss the slight tension that ran across his shoulders. “That last hit should have been yours.”

Akaashi dropped his gaze again. “Yes, father.” 

It was late in the afternoon and everyone was exhausted after the investigation and subsequent fight against the lake demon. A hike up the mountain was a brutal and needless punishment, so that would be saved for the morning. The innkeeper was nice enough to open her rooms to them and provide a warm dinner of freshly caught fish and soothing soup. 

After dinner, Kenma and the other healer brought on as part of the mission party went from person to person and room to room tending to any remaining injuries. Koutarou excused himself and slipped through the inn, peeking his head into open rooms and listening for a familiar voice. He found Akaashi at the back of the inn, wandering around the small garden almost mindlessly. He took a single step out of the sliding doors and Akaashis’s eyes were already on him, though his expression was closed and tense for a moment before relaxed. 

He greeted Koutarou softly, pausing his wandering at the edge of a small pond. “Shouldn’t you be inside celebrating with Tetsurou,” Akaashi said when Koutarou settled beside him. “You two were the ones to defeat the demon.”

Koutarou turned, searching Akaashi’s face, listening to his tone for any bitterness, but found none. When Akaashi turned to look at him, he beamed and shook his head. “Nope. I want to spend my time with you because you’re the best.”

Akaashi snorted at that, short and amused. “That isn’t true,” he said, and there was something in his tone, sad and almost bitter, though it didn’t sound directed at Koutarou or anyone really. 

Koutarou frowned. “But it is. You’re smart, and a good leader, and an amazing fighter!”

“I’m not,” Akaashi said, his tone snappier and harsher. That bitterness is back, deep and internal in a way Koutarou didn’t expect and didn’t know what to do with. 

“Yes, you are. Even if someone thinks your swings are powerful enough or that you don’t move faster enough, I think you still fight well.”

Akaashi’s eyes were on him in a second, and a small frown pulled at his lips. “Bokuto-san?”

Koutarou looked away as heat crawled up his neck. “I overheard your conversation with your father. I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine,” Akaashi said after a moment, releasing a soft breath of air into the quiet night. “He was right, though, about… most of it.”

“I don’t think so,” Koutarou declared loudly. “I think you’re the best fighter! And your father is too strict.”

Akaashi snorted so softly Koutarou almost missed it. By the time he turned to look at the boy beside him, Akaashi was already hiding his mouth behind his hand. If he was smiling or just holding in a laugh, Koutarou couldn’t tell. “You would say that. But I’m not— I don’t think my father is too strict. He has his reasons. I am supposed to be the next Head of Fukurodani, and he wants the best for the Clan. His expectations make sense.”

“I’m supposed to be the next head of my clan too, but my parents have never spoken to me like that,” Koutarou said and then paused to really consider his words. “Or, well, they have, but that was only when I get my siblings in trouble.”

There was something soft in Akaashi’s gaze for a moment before it vanished with the chilly breeze that passed between them. Autumn was on the horizon. “Yes, well, you already have all the skills you need. I do not, so I must work on them,” Akaashi explained easily, as though it were obvious.

Koutarou turned to Akaashi, taking in his profile for a moment. “What are you talking about?” 

Akaashi turned to him and met his gaze with an almost startled blink. “About?”

“That you don’t have skill,” Koutarou said softly. The words were bitter and heavy on his tongue. He didn’t like them, especially not in conjunction with Akaashi. “You’re plenty smart and patient and kind. I think you’d make a great leader someday.” Or today, or tomorrow or right now.

Akaashi shook his head. “I’m not strong enough, but I don’t expect you would understand that,” Akaashi said lightly, turning to pass Koutarou on his way back towards the inn.

Something about his words settled uncomfortably in Koutarou’s chest, twisting between his ribs, sharp and pointed. “What’s that mean?” 

Akaashi stopped, lips tight. “I didn’t—” He let out a collected breath. “You’re strong, Koutarou. You… you’re a good sword fighter.”

“Even if my form is sloppy?” Koutarou asked nervously.

“We all have things to improve upon,” Akaashi said, gaze soft. “And even if your form isn’t perfect you’re talented and quick and a natural leader. Plus, you’re very…” 

Akaashi’s gaze trailed over his form for an extended second and Koutarou shifted under the attention, his cheeks warmer. He wanted to look away. He wanted Akaashi to look away. But he also never wanted either of them to move. It made him nervous, itchy; he wanted to run or move or bring Akaashi closer and— 

“You’re very strong,” Akaashi said with a cough that brought Koutarou back to the present. When he met Akaashi’s gaze, Akaashi’s face was tinged pink, his eyes open and fully and oh so green. Akaashi turned quickly, and Koutarou shivered, there was a warmth against his skin that was suddenly missing. 

“We have an early morning if we’re to be at the Cloud Recesses by noon. We should go to bed.”

“Yes,” Koutarou muttered, his voice rough and stiff for some reason. 

“Right well,” Akaashi stopped in front of the open inn door and glanced over his shoulder. The candlelight poured out from the hallway, flickering and casting a glow around Akaashi’s wild curls, illuminating and highlighting the sides of his face. He looked ethereal, though Koutarou wasn’t sure there was ever a time when Akaashi didn’t. “Goodnight, Bokuto-san.”

Koutarou nodded. “Good night, Akaashi.” By the time he looked up, Akaashi was gone, and so was the heat that had been traveling across Koutarou’s skin. With a shiver, he cast one last look at the pond, and then made his own way towards the inn.

* * *

**VI: Lanterns**

The Autumn Lantern Festival was a bigger deal at the Cloud Recesses than it was back in Koutarou’s hometown. Lessons were suspended as every building was polished, dusted, and cleaned until they sparkled. All students were required to help, but Koutarou found that it wasn’t too bad, wiping down windows, while Akaashi stood at the side, dusting off each and every book with great care. Even with the excess amount of work they had, Akaashi kept his promise and began joining Koutarou and Tetsurou’s sparring sessions. They almost always ran long, and still, Akaashi stuck around. Most days, he’d even hang out with them afterward, walking along the river and occasionally eating meals with them — never dinner, those he still spent with his father. 

Once every walk was swept and even the courtyards were cleaned so not a pebble or blade of grass was out of place, the last day was spent putting together paper lanterns to be sent out from the top of the hill come sunset. The paper for the lanterns was so thin it appeared almost translucent, and Koutarou feared he would rip it just by brushing against it, which would be a disaster because the paper was certainly expensive. 

Each student was given their own lantern, which, in turn, they got to decorate, ink and calligraphy brushes provided of course. Some wrote wishes or dreams across the off-white surface in fancy scripts, others drew doodles or designs if they had nothing they wanted to write. Tetsurou painted two little cat figures sitting side by side.

“They look so good,” Koutarou exclaimed when Tetsurou showed him the final product.

Testurou’s eyes lit up and he raced off to Kenma. Kenma looked up from his own lantern — he’d been writing something but Koutarou was seated too far away to read exactly what it was —and stared blankly at Tetsurou’s design for a moment before looking back down. “Nice bunnies,” he said as he continued to write.

Tetsurou let out a sharp gasp, one hand coming to his chest. “Bunnies? They’re cats!”

Kenma paused his writing, lifting the brush carefully off the paper so as to not spread the ink and squinted at Tetsurou’s design once more. “No, they’re not.” 

“Yes, they are!”

“No, they are not.” Kenma turned his attention to the paper. “I think you got your animals confused.”

“They’re _cats_ ,” Tetsurou insisted, loudly enough to have drawn the attention and laughter of some of the surrounding students. “I know what a cat looks like.”

“That picture says otherwise,” Kenma remarked and Tetsurou let out another offended squawk. When Kenma shifted again, Koutarou caught a smug smile lifting his cheeks and crinkling the corner of his eyes.

“They’re certainly lively today,” Akaashi said, and Koutarou flinched slightly. Akaashi moved silently as ever, it was the one thing Koutarou still couldn’t predict about him. 

Koutarou nodded, as Akaashi knelt by his side, and looked back to Kenma and Tetsurou. “Everyone’s excited for tonight,” Koutarou replied.

In the corner of his eye, Akaashi nodded. “I can’t blame them. The feast is really good.”

“We’re excited for the celebrations too,” Koutarou explained, but when Akaashi gave him an amused look with one eyebrow raised, Koutarou chuckled and amended his statement, “mostly for the food though.” 

Akaashi gave a pleased hum — likely because he was right, again — and returned his attention to the smoother paper carefully laid out before him. He took a bush out from the folds of his sleeves and sat back, staring at the white paper. 

“What are you thinking about writing?” Koutarou asked. 

Akaashi lifted the end of the brush’s handle to his lips. This time he didn’t stop himself but nibbled on the end ever so slightly. Koutarou watched the brush vanish between Akaashi’s lips for a second before starting squarely at his own paper. His face burned, and he felt inexplicably hot but also cold. 

“I haven’t thought of it yet,” Akaashi said, and Koutarou stole a quick glance at him. His pulse calmed now that Akaashi was just tapping the brush against his chin. But then Akaashi turned to him, eyes bright and curious. “What about you?” 

If Koutarou were a braver man, he might have written that moment down on his own lantern. If he were better at language, he could capture the way Akaashi’s eyes sparkled green in the bright afternoon sunlight, and how his hair looked soft, curling slightly against his forehead, and the way he could smile without his lips ever moving. But Koutarou wasn’t brave, nor was he a poet. Frankly, with Akaashi look at him like that, so close and yet too far away, any words that Koutarou had known vanished. 

“I-I don’t know,” he stammered. Even with his gaze on his own paper, he could still feel Akaashi’s gaze, still see him sitting just in the corner of Koutarou’s own vision. “I haven’t thought about it.”

Akaashi hummed again, tapping his lips twice before nodding. “It feels very final, doesn’t it?” Koutarou glanced at him, confused. Akaashi chuckled to himself, a soft sound hidden behind a half-raised hand. “This happens every year, but I always struggle with what to write. Once you get ink on the paper that’s it, you’re done. It’s a lot of pressure. And if you misspell something,” Akaashi let out a short breath that almost resembled a laugh. “Well, that’s it. No wish for you.” 

“You could draw, like Tetsu,” Koutarou offered.

“I don’t think I could draw rabbits nearly as well,” Akaashi replied simply, if a bit loudly. 

“They’re not rabbits!” Tetsurou shouted in reply from where he sat beside Kenma.

Koutarou snorted, and Akaashi’s eyes lit up, his cheeks lifted but any smile he wore was hidden by a turn of his head and his hand, again. Koutarou gripped his own brush tightly to avoid reaching out and lowering Akaashi’s hand on his own. He stared at the blank paper, looked back at Akaashi. “We could write each other’s.”

Akaashi blinked at him, cocking his head to the side slightly. “What do you mean?”

“Well,” Koutarou shifted in his seat, gripping his brush a bit too hard. “You don’t know what to write and I don’t know what to write, so, you write something for me and I write something for you and then we trade. How does that sound.” 

Akaashi stared at him in silence for a few seconds, and Koutarou felt warm under his gaze, even as a chilly fall breeze shuffled through the trees. “It sounds perfect,” Akaashi said, and then turned to his paper without another word, shielding his face as he cheeks rounded out in yet another secret smile. 

Koutarou sat, frozen still for another few seconds, watching as Akaashi dipped his brush in the ink, holding his billowing sleeve out of the way with graceful fingers. His lips were pulled thin as he studied the paper. Every now and again the tip of his tongue made its way out between his lips. He was so focused he probably didn’t realize what he was doing, the same way he probably didn’t know he hid each and every one of his smiles.

Koutarou’s eyes widened, as he reached for the ink quickly. 

When he finished, he sat back and admired his work. Admittedly, it wasn’t the neatest handwriting or the prettiest calligraphy, but it would get the message across. At his side, Akaashi was hunched over his own parchment, writing in long and even strokes across the page. Koutarou’s eyes lit up and he tried to look over Akaashi’s shoulder, but every time he did, Akaashi shifted, blocking him from view. When Akaashi was finished, he blew over it carefully before setting it aside, just out of view from Koutarou.

“No peeking,” Akaashi scolded almost playfully.

Koutarou sat back with a pout. “But isn’t it for me?

Akaashi nodded.

“So, when can I see it?”

Akaashi looked at him, his face carefully blank except for the glint of mischief that lingered in his eyes. “This evening. We’ll trade then, alright?”

“Deal,” Koutarou said, not bothering to try and contain the cheek-splitting grin that stretched across his face. 

\---------

Evening came on slower than Koutarou wanted. But as promised, all the students ended up at the top of the highest peak in the Cloud Recesses. With the treeline below them, the sky was open and, as luck would have it, clear of any clouds. As the sun dipped towards the horizon, the students grouped together, putting the finishing touches on their lanterns and assembled them. All that was left was to light them and send them up into the sky. 

At the top of the hill, Koutarou looked around the clearing. Tetsurou and Kenma found an open space to start assembling them, and when Koutarou couldn’t locate Akaashi he joined them. He put together his lantern as carefully as possible, any rips in the paper and the spell that would be put on them to make them fly wouldn’t work. As he finished sticking the last pieces together, Tetsurou appeared over his shoulder, glancing over his writing.

“An interesting choice,” Tetsurou said, voice light and flitting.

Koutarou turned to him only to be met with a wide smile. Koutarou flushed and looked away from his friend quickly. “I wanted to keep it simple.”

Tetsurou only hummed as he sauntered back to his own lantern. 

Kenma looked up from his work and glanced over at Koutarou with a raised eyebrow. “At least his is discernible,” he said to Tetsurou. Earning an indigent huff as well as a list of verbal complaints, all of which Koutarou ignored when the Fukurodani conjugate appeared at the top of the mountain.

Akaashi hovered at his father’s side, his lantern already put together. He held it carefully between his hands, the writing must have been pressed against his chest because Koutarou could make out nothing between his long, elegant fingers. As much as Koutarou itched to race over, Akaashi was surrounded by retains and, most noticeably, his father. While he glanced in Koutarou’s direction and gave a small nod, he made no movement to call Koutarou over. So Koutarou sat, still and waiting, growing ever the most impatient.

Tetsurou appeared at his side, lantern in hand, and followed Koutarou’s gaze with a knowing smile. “Your message is for Akaashi, isn’t it?” 

Koutarou looked at his lantern and the messy calligraphy. All he could do is nod.

Tetsurou gave him a nudge. All around them, more and more people rose to their feet, lanterns in hand. They talked excitedly to one another in hushed tones, as if trying not to disturb the peace that had settled over the group. “Go talk to him,” Tetsurou said with another elbow to Koutarou’s ribs. 

“I don’t know,” Koutarou mumbled, shifting from foot to foot. Akaashi stood just outside of the retainers. He spoke to a few with a neutral if gentle expression, but most didn’t hang around for very long.

“You’re acting like how you did the first week you were here,” Tetsurou continued with a chuckle. “But you’re friends now. Talk. To. Him.”

Another group of retainers stopped in front of Akaashi, who dipped his head, but otherwise didn’t talk unless they did. “He seems busy,” Koutarou said, looking to Tetsurou. 

“This is getting ridiculous,” Kenma said with a huff as he rose to his feet. He gave Koutarou a stern look. “Quit making excuses and talk to him. _You_ like him. _He_ likes you. Gods know neither of you is very subtle.”

Koutarou’s eyes widened. “What?” he coughed, it was as if something dry had lodged itself in it.

Kenma rolled his eyes and opened his mouth, which was immediately covered by one of Tetsurou’s hands. “Kenma’s right. It is getting a little ridiculous.”

Koutarou blinked, looking between the two of them as Kenma shoved Tetsurou’s hand off of his face and tossed him the same unamused look he had just been giving Koutarou. “You think Akaashi likes—”

“Go!” Tetsurou and Kenma snapped together.

Koutarou flinched as a few people cast the group of them concerned looks, but nodded and shuffled towards Akaashi. He stood along now, hovering away from the rest of the Fukurodani Clan, towards the edge of the cliff. 

“Hey,” Koutarou said, settling beside Akaashi.

Akaashi looked up and his gaze softened, a smile without the actual smiling part, the very expression that described Akaashi. “Hey.”

Easy silence settled between them. Koutarou took a moment to really look out over the rest of the mountainside that sloped down to the valley below. Halfway down the mountain was the main compound of the Cloud Recesses, half-hidden by trees. Further down, at the base of the valley, the thatched huts of the village by the lake were dark dots studded by glittering lights that grew more and more numerous as the sun sunk closer to the horizon.

“Beautiful, right?” Akaashi said with a small sigh.

Koutarou pulled his gaze from the scenery to settle on Akaashi’s cheeks, his curling hair that looked like it was never brushed, the slope of his nose, the gentle planes of his lips, and swallowed dryly around nothing. “Yes.” 

The sun crept lower and the blue of the sky darkened, resting a gradient of blue that burst into reds and oranges around the horizon. “It’s close,” Akaashi said, something trembling in his voice, which Koutarou realized a second belatedly must have been excited. Akaashi stood still as ever, but there were extra twitches of his fingers, shifts in his stance. 

“You really like this festival, don’t you?” Koutarou asked, smiling at the realization. 

Akaashi nodded bashfully, mumbling something into his lantern. 

Koutarou inched closer. “What did you say?”

Akaashi turned to him and then looked away, the pink in his cheeks complemented the soft red of the sunset perfectly. “After this, we get to eat.” 

Koutarou laughed at that. He should have expected that Akaashi would look forward to the food more than the beautiful lights that were about to float out over the mountainside. Once his laughter subsided, Koutarou glanced at Akaashi. “Trade?” he asked, holding out his lantern. 

Akaashi nodded. Very carefully, if a bit awkwardly because they did not consider how to pass off large lanterns without an extra set of hands, they exchanged lanterns. Koutarou looked at the writing excitedly. 

_Strength and Kindness_

Akaashi’s calligraphy was clean, crisp, and as beautiful as the writer himself. The strokes looped together, connecting where they needed to, leaving space where necessary. It was like looking at a painting. Koutarou’s heart pounded and he almost felt guilty for the mess he had handed Akaashi. He turned to say as much but his voice faltered.

Akashi stared at Koutarou’s message with soft, wide eyes, an indiscernible expression resting across his features. He blinked and glanced back to Koutarou. “I… thank you. It’s… very sweet,” he said, and as he spoke, one hand rose up as though to cover his mouth. 

Koutarou reached out and caught Akaashi’s wrist before he could lift it all the way. “I told you to smile for a reason,” Koutarou insisted. 

“That you did,” Akaashi said, his eyes on the lantern. He swallowed, and the wrist in Koutarou’s hand trembled ever so slightly, but Akaashi never pulled away, even when a wobbly smile settled over his lips. 

Koutarou cheered, “You can smile! I was right!” And then he laughed, loud, and free, and bold.

And Akaashi laughed with him, raising a hand, before slowly lowering it to hold the other part of the lantern. The sun vanished behind the horizon and one by one the candles within the lanterns were lit by a handful of retainers who hurried around quickly, but efficiently. 

The candlelight cast soft shadows across Akaashi’s face, illuminating the smile that had yet to slip from his face. “Strength and kindness, and smile,” Koutarou read, looking between their lanterns.

“Two good wishes,” Akaashi said with a nod. 

One by one the lanterns lifted up, the paper glowing faintly with golden light as they rose into the rapidly darkening sky. More lights rose up from the village, drifting over the lake, which was just a black blob amongst the dark shapes of the trees. It wouldn’t be long before the lanterns were indiscernible from the stars in the sky. 

“Bokuto-san.” 

“Yeah?” Koutarou turned to Akaashi.

He hadn’t realized Akaashi had moved until he was there, against Koutarou’s side, hands resting carefully on his biceps, thought Koutarou carefully, as though he were as delicate and precious as the paper the lanterns were made from. A warm breath tickled his cheeks. Koutarou turned again, right as Akaashi leaned in, and the warmth that was on his cheeks passed over his lips. 

Akaash’s lips were warm and a bit dry — likely from the mountain air — but Koutarou wasn’t given much time to process the feeling, because they were gone as soon as they came. Koutarou blinked, watching as Akaashi pulled away quickly. His eyes opened slowly, they were so close and so wide, Koutarou could see the faint ring of blue around the edges of Akaashi’s irises. The red on Akaashi’s cheeks was the most alarming, bright and strong as the red of the sunset. 

For a moment, neither of them moved. They were still pressed against each other, one of Akaashi’s hands still resting on Koutarou’s arm. And then Akaashi’s lips — his lips which had been on Koutaou’s lips not seconds earlier — stretched wide enough to show two rows of teeth. 

“Thank you for everything, Bokuto-san,” Akaashi said softly.

Koutarou cleared his throat, blinked, and then cleared his throat again. “You- you're welcome,” he stammered. 

Akaashi’s smile only grew, the lines around his eyes wrinkling wonderfully. “Food?” he asked, hand extended.

Koutarou wasted no time reaching for, lacing his fingers with Akaashi’s as he cheered, “Yes please!”


End file.
